The Determined Drunk

ROOOOWW!
EEERAH!

("We who are nobility rise above the calls of the flesh."
"That is true. We have our strength of will, do we not?"
"I hope we do."
"But supposing we are perverse, and use our will to bad ends?"
"Then we search deep inside ourselves... and we tear out the evil.")

Flesh rising,
a bloodied battle field,
mass temptation,
a ceaseless bludgeoning.
Constant confrontation,
a flood of decadence
tearing at my weaknesses.

Clawing, gnashing at my blistered heels,
who can save me now?
Who can save me from myself?
Can you save me now?

Thus far I've only further
tightened the grip of sin's hands
around my throat
around my throat.
No strength.
No strength of mine.
Only God's good mercy.
Only His perfect love.

(For I can do all things through Christ Jesus who gives me strength. For I
can do all things through Christ Jesus who gives me strength.)

Guilty hands are covered with the stink of sin,
but perfect precious blood takes the bitter shame away.
Mercy poured out freshly,
a flood of righteousness
covering my brokenness.
Dark deeds are swept away
like crumbling ashes.
I accept my death.
I embrace my cross,
the thorn in my side.
I embrace my weakness,
the log in my eye.

Thus far I've only further
tightened the grip of sin's hands

This is me,
the face of dependency

GO!

Lord give me strength,
for I am weak.
Christ be my strength
so I can overcome.
I will overcome.